Euphoric
by EuphoricFire
Summary: Aaric is your average college student: struggling with his job and no luck with the ladies. Until he runs into Scor, a vampire seeking the VINIC. Aaric is then thrown into a series of unfortuanate events to find the VINIC, hoping to keep his life.
1. Chapter 1

Euphoric

Writer's note: Hey all! Welcome to the first chapter of Euphoric. Lately I've been thinking about starting up a vampire short story.I don't really know the story line at all. I'm basically throwing all of this out randomly. It's the creative writer within me. So, let's see what happens. By the way, I use names almost always in accordance to the meaning of the name…

First Chapter: The Beginning

A groggy teen bitterly cracks his shovel into the blanket of ice covering the windshield of his beat up, old Chevrolet. Small specks of snow pepper his dusty brown hair.

"Stupid snow. Stupid ice," he grumbles. He smashes a large chunk of ice, dozens of tiny, freezing crystals spewing down his coat arm. "Hey!" he snaps, ice clinging to his bare arm. "Damn it! I'm even wearing a coat!" He takes hold of the coat fabric and rubs it against the arm, desperately seeking to wipe away the cold water. "This is a good way to start off the night shift. Thank you, winter." Aaric flings open his car door, falling into the worn leather seat. His long face darkens as another blanket of snow tumbles onto the windshield from the tree above. "Just get through it, Aaric," he murmurs, palm digging into his forehead. Driving the clutch forward he taps down on the accelerate, pulling out into the busy New York street. A mixture of gas exhaust, smoke, and misery floats into Aaric's car. He inhales deeply. "Ahh, the sweet smell of New York."

After some fifteen minutes Aaric parks behind his work place of nearly two years, the Lights Off club. The rusty brick walls of the club's back are painted in graffiti and darkness. A deep sigh is heaved as he opens the back door and steps into the bustling kitchen, nearly beheaded by a passing chef savagely beating the air with a meat cleaver.

"Think they can criticize my food?" he roars.

"Hey, Cole!" Aaric calls, quickly dismissing himself from the kitchen to follow his fellow co-worker and friend. "Dude, who shoved an iron pole up Benny's ass?" He catches up to Cole, entering the staff lounge. Cole shrugs and swipes away his jet black bangs, icy blue eyes like brilliant pools of insight. He shoves his hands into his back pants' pockets, bearing a toothy grin.

"Some new customer said his steak was too rough or something. All I know is that it cracks me up watching Benny squirm!" The friend isn't necessarily short, but he stands a noticeable few inches shorter than Aaric. Compared to Aaric's long face and deep, contemplating brown eyes, Cole can look rather out of place. Not to mention his rather humorous mixture of such amazingly deep hair and bright blue eyes. Aaric can't remember how many times his friend has been questioned on his "surprised" look. "I can't help it!" He would argue, and Aaric would muffle a chuckle.

"Nice." Making his way over to his little cubby Aaric's brow cocks in suspicion. "What's this?" He slips his hand over a slim envelope resting on his uniform. "Don't tell me I got another ticket or something."

"Maybe you got a promotion or something," Cole suggests with a secretly bitter chuckle. Aaric catches his secret remark. Everyone knows Cole has been pining for a promotion to bartender for the past three months. A terrifying shatter comes from the kitchen along with the sound of garbled voices. "Listen man, I gotta get back. I wanna see this!"

"Sure thing, man," Aaric muses, finger wriggling under the envelope flap. He listens to his friend exit, fingers slipping over a sleek card. "Hm?" Pinching the card, he lifts it out of its crinkled package. "What the hell--?" At first the card looks like a simple plastic business card; no words or etching. A prank. "Thanks guys." Just before he stuffs the piece of trash back in its casing, a flicker comes from the surface. A spark of light. A lick of red. Bringing the card back to view, he scrutinizes the surface. Another flash comes, words spelling out across the front. Or at least they could be words. The strange symbols etch in one after the other, filling up the entire card.

"Aaric!"

"Y-Yes?" Aaric stutters, jumping five feet in the air at the sound of his manager's voice. He awkwardly shoves the blinking card back into its wrapping, stuffing the envelope in his back pocket.

Kirk, his manager glares at the envelope peeking out of his back pocket. "You know the club's rules on drugs."

"It isn't dru-"

"Get to work!" he orders, disappearing behind the door. Coaxing out a smooth breath, he calms his racing heart, and snatches his waiting apron, tying it hastily behind his back. On his way out, he collides straight into the idle Cole.

"Whoa, dude! Cool it. Kirk left." His friend chuckles, slapping Aaric's shoulder. "Oh, and I don't feel like taking out the trash-so be a pal?" Clutching the foul smelling black trash bag, Cole shoves in into his friend's arms. Of course, Aaric can't expect anything different. Cole is pushy and Aaric is a push over. Such wonderful ingredients for a healthy friendship.

"I suppose it'll get me out of five extra minutes of waiting tables. Thanks friend," Aaric grins, simply milking the sarcasm. Retreating out the back door, he tightens his grip on the slippery plastic handles.

"I don't know!" a desperate voice cries.

"Well let's just wait here until you do know, eh?" another challenging voice incites. Aaric freezes, dropping the bag at his feet. Unfortunately, there are several beer glasses within the bag that clink loudly as they connect with the harsh cement ground. "What was that?" Although never caught in

the middle of a gang fight Aaric decides that he wants to keep it that way. Turning around quickly, he clasps his clammy hands over the door knob. "Hey, what's this?" A fast hand apprehends his shoulder, tearing him back.

"Let me go! Damn it! I-I have a gun!" A cold, sly laugh echoes off the brick alley walls. A pair of strong hands grabs the fabric of Aaric's front shirt, slamming him up against the wall. "Ow! Please! I'm broke!" The blunt wall causes his spine to ache and skin to crawl due to the freezing temperature.

"Such a silly boy. It's a good thing you're cute." The pair of hands drops him. Suddenly a choking arm rams up into Aaric's throat, cutting off a good supply of oxygen.

"I thought you said I was cute!" Aaric gasps, clawing at the arm.

The voice comes again, face cloaked behind a façade of darkness. "I did. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to kill you. The cute ones are the tastiest…" Through the blackness, Aaric catches a twinge of silver gleam. "This won't hurt but for a moment..."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: The Truth and a Little Hiding

Aaric frantically claws at the stranger's arm, choking out the last of his precious oxygen. The mesmerizing twinkle of silver reflects in his deep auburn eyes, heart giving a double-dutching leap of terror. In the camouflaging opaqueness of this street alley Aaric can't even catch sight of the figure intent on killing him: which seems highly unfair. His parents had warned him about New York.

"It's too dangerous," his mother had crooned, shaking her head miserably with a glass of sherry in her hand.

"It'll be good for him, Diane. Build some character, just like it did to his old man!" his father boasted.

Aaric senses the humid breath of the delinquent creeping up his neck, arousing a somewhat puzzled cocking of his eyebrows. Not only was he going to be killed, but he was going to be killed by a psychotic vampire-wannabe.

"Scor!" an equally cold voice snaps just as Aaric feels the thug's disgusting lips trailing his skin. His flesh crawls, anxiously leaping from his bones to escape the scarring embrace. The attacker pauses, then releasing a short sigh of anger as they square their shoulders. A buzzing light attached to the brick wall behind them flickers momentarily, almost casting a strobe light like affect on the two of them. Eventually it settles long enough to properly illuminate his opponent.

The hood once shielding their face falls innocently onto their shoulders, revealing the attacker. He is no more than a simple teen. The boy looks to be in his late teens, though, perhaps 18 or 19 years old. His dirty blonde hair is simply doused with numerous black highlights. Though apparently straight at the top of his head, his locks show obvious signs of unconquered voluminous waves near the edges which seem to want to tuck into the nape of his neck.

The boy heaves another sigh, jerking his head to the side. "What?" he shouts, two fangs capturing a slight glint of the overhead light.

Another single figure steps into the circle of light, yellow illumination showering their all black ensemble. The only minute sense of color is a deep red and black insignia sewn over the new figure's breast pocket.

"We aren't here for meals! We're here to find the VINIC. This bastard doesn't have it…"

This Scor character pauses, contemplating. "But—"

"Scor, god damn it! No!" the figure barks. Aaric struggles to muffle his harsh breathing, eyes anxiously darting from figure to figure. Scor sighs and scratches his cheek, other hand fiddling with something on the other side of his pants.

"Fine," he sighs, nonchalantly rising a freezing pistol barrel to Aaric's cheek.

"Whoa! Whoa, whoa!" Aaric stutters, finger nails digging into the bricks behind him. "Please! Please, wait! Please!"

"Repetitive, aren't we?" Scor muses, shoving the barrel further into Aaric's cheek bone.

"Please! I—you don't need to kill me!" he begs, swallowing hard. "I didn't see anything, anyway!"

Scor sniggers, tonguing his lip ring. "Of course you didn't. But we can't take that chance, now can we?" Aaric feels his cheeks grow warm, just now realizing that a boy had called him cute.

"Wait! Wait, you said I was cute! You're gay then? Right?" Aaric struggles to retain his life.

"I'm sorry, I forgot how that's your business," Scor hisses, grinning.

"Scor! Get the job done—!" the figure orders trailing off as a faint buzzing distracts him. He calmly reaches into his pocket and recovers a slim cell phone. Pressing the button he rests it against his ear and mumbles softly. Aaric watches in dismay, still clawing vaguely at Scor's arm. The phone call lasts no longer than 30 seconds. "Scor, I have to go back. Get the job done, alright?" the figure requests more soothingly this time, tucking the phone back in its rightful place and vanishing in an opaque mist. Aaric watches in absolute fascination at the smoke cast away in the eerie breeze but Scor only refocuses his attention on the matters at hand as he shoves the barrel deeper again.

"Gah!" he chokes. He hears the barrel cock. "No! No, please! Please! I—I'm gay too, right? We're birds of a feather!"

"You're ridiculous," Scor taunts. "Why would I even care? There are plenty of men much cuter than you. Vampires too."

"Let—let me help you! If you have a mortal on the inside you can find this VINIC faster!"

He pauses, barrel withdrawing slightly. "You think so, eh?" Aaric nods vigorously. "So you'll give yourself to me in order to find it?" Another assuring nod. "Mind, body, and soul?" Scor whispers with a demented jeer. Aaric screws his eyes shut and nods one more time.

"Sounds like a good deal," he snickers. Just as the barrel eases from his cheek, a blunt object cracks against his face. He yelps loudly as the stinging sets in, pain pulsing violently throughout his cheek. A slippery trail of blood leaks down his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Aaric screeches, voice cracking.

"Just to let you get a taste of what you've gotten yourself in to," Scor sneers, pulling his hood back over his head. "I'll make sure to come for you when I need you, Aaric. Have a nice night." Now it's Scor who vanishes in a cloud of darkness, leaving Aaric paralyzed with fear on the alley street.

"I—I never said my name…" he breathes, looking around frantically. Timidly getting to his feet he bolts to his car, fishing the keys out of his pocket. His shift had barely started but he couldn't go back to work after what had just happened. He shoves the key into the lock and gets in, slamming the door shut behind him. After wedging the key into the ignition and locking all the doors he rests his head on the car wheel to collect his breaths. He isn't sure what's the worse thing that happened: the fact that now he's sworn his life over to a psychotic or that he admitted he was gay. At first, he supposed, it was just reflex to agree with the opponent. Tell him what he wants to hear. The only thing he didn't count on was accidently letting the truth seep through.

So embarrassing! Although he had to admit to himself, Scor wasn't half bad. Lip rings drove him crazy. He had convinced Cole out of getting one for the selfish purpose of avoiding an impending crush on his best friend. This had luckily been avoided. That was half of the reason behind being sent half way across the country to New York. In New York, none of daddy's friends would find out about his "faggy" son.

"Oh, god," he mumbles as he fingers the ugly gash scarring his cheek. "What have I gotten myself in to?"


	3. Chapter 3

Aaric shakes his head vacantly, grazing his fingertips across the bleeding gash that scars his cheek. As he collapses onto his bed, having put off any further thinking since getting into the car, he now pauses to properly absorb the harsh magnitude of the situation.

"Oh my god!" he screams, snapping up and snatching his cell which rests on the bedside table. "Shit...shit..." he murmurs as his trembling fingers punch at the speed dial key. Shoving the receiver against his ear Aaric then stands, pacing quickly as the monontonous rings hug his eardrum. "Come on, pick up!" Another couple of rings sound.

"Hey, dude!" Cole's perky voice seem surprinsingly more comforting than normal. "Why the hell did you leave your shift--?"

"No, dude! Shut up for five seconds," Aaric hisses, clutching the phone with both hands as sweat accumulates on his palms. "I need you to get over here....right now." His tone is sharp yet fearful, eyes darting frantically around his room for any suspicious signs.

"Now?" his friends implores. "I'm still working! I had to cover your shift. Kirk's pissed as hell..."

"But, Cole, you don't understand! I've been through some creepy shit tonight...you have no idea." Aaric turns to glance out his window, peeking through the curtains.

"Man, did you knock up a girl or something?" he snickers.

"Cole, I do NOT need your joking right now--!" Aaric turns in anger, eyes connecting immediately with Scor who lounges casually in Aaric's recliner. "Oh god!" This sight provokes a fearful jump, cell phone leaping from his slippery hands to clatter loudly on the floor.

"Aaric? Aaric...hello?" Cole's distant voice leaks from the receiver. Scor rests his chin on his fist with a dissatisfied frown. Aaric opens his mouth to speak but can only manage choked sounds. Scor slowly uncrosses his legs and rises, walking over to Aaric and crushing the phone beneath his shoe.

"Tisk, tisk, tisk. I thought I told you not to tell anyone. Maybe it slipped my mind." Scor looks up at Aaric after mourning the broken trinket and grabs Aaric's shirt tightly, bringing him close as his lip curl over his threatening snarl. "Then let me take this time to tell you. You're DEAD to the world. I own you now--you're merely a pawn to the vampire empire." He pauses to release Aaric's shirt. "You don't want enemies like me in this world..."

"Sorry," Aaric mumbles. "Wait...I can't associate with anything?" Scor nods slightly. "What about my friends? Cole's been my friend ever since 3rd grade."

"Cole?" Scor turns and steps over to the chair again, sitting as he idly tongues his lip ring. "That friend of yours with the brilliant eyes, right?"

"Yeah. How do you--?"

"Of COURSE not Cole!" he spats rather acidly. "I don't believe that there's a Cole Acceptance clause in my shpeel!"

"He's my best friend! He knows everything about me...and..."

"Everything? So he knows that you're gay?"

Aaric bites his tongue as Scor stifles another outburst. "Listen, Aaric...I get how upsetting this is right now...but not everyone is going to be all sympathetic. We don't really give a shit about emotions."

"We as in...vampires?"

Scor nods, running his hand through his bangs. "I'll try to help you out seeing as right now you're kind of hopeless--" He smirks, peeling his jacket from his torso.

"Hey! I'm trying!" Aaric defends, looking back out the window as his cheeks grow warm. "Why are you here anyway?"

"All I'm inclined to tell you is that I need a place to stay tonight," he says.

"I thought I belong to you mind, body, and soul---where does mi casa, su casa come in?" He turns to meet Scor.

"You're funny." Scor stands, admiring Aaric with crossed arms. "Just make sure that doesn't turn cocky." He smirks. "Then again...cocky would be just fine..." In a hasty flash Scor races up to Aaric at an ungodly speed, stopping just before he can slam into him. Aaric feels his stomach twist, watching Scor's lips curve into a guilty smile. "Hmm...Virge told me not to bite...but just a taste wouldn't hurt..."

"A bite?" Aaric forces down a swallow as he feels Scor's cool lip ring brush his own lip.

"You DID agree to body," he reminds. "So..." Scor gives in to the overwhelming need conquering him, listening to the roaring of blood as it pulses through Aaric's veins.

"Aaric?" Cole's voice is muffled from the front door. Scor pulls away before properly endulging in his craving. A deep growl works its way up Scor's throat.

"Don't hurt him...Scor!" Aaric reaches forward to snatch at Scor as he slinks toward the front door. "Scor!"

"Who? It's Cole..." Cole says uneasily. "Someone in there or something?" Scor reaches forward to grab at the doorknob but Aaric sprints forward, taking back his arm just in time.

"I told you: no life, that means no Cole," Scor hisses. "Say goodbye to him. He's dead to you." His words are almost surreal, so cold and blatant. Aaric swallows back a lump in his throat as he opens the door, Scor ducking from the line of fire. Cole leans with a sly smile against the doorway, bag of M&Ms tucked under his arm. He pops several into his mouth as he greets Aaric.

"What's with the voice? Scor?" He chews slowly as he waits for his friend's answer.

"Uh...the T.V was on," he draws out as his fingers knead the door's wood. Just out of his peripheral vision he can spot Scor fishing a walky-talky like gadget out of his pants pocket. Even from this far away Aaric can spot the strange brilliance of Scor's eyes. A rather unique shade of illustrious amethyst shade which twinkle with curiosity as he glances up from the device. Though his face doesn't carve with any apparent emotion, only his eyes provide any possible insight.

"Aaric, what happened to your face?"

In the heat of it all Aaric had forgotten the stinging laceration lining his cheek. "Oh, right. I fell--and hit my face..." he admits lamely.

"Clumsy, as always. Okay...so, can I come in?" Cole implores with a chuckle. Aaric laughs nervously as he closes the door slightly, watching his friend's forehead wrinkle in perplexity. "Aaric, man, what's up?"

"Uhm..." A quick glance at Scor. "I'm actually busy right now." The eerie squeak of the recliner springs suggests that the impatient vampire has risen from his throne. Aaric's throat seems to tighten to unbearably uncomfortable measures.

Cole's eyebrows hike up in suspicion. "You're...busy? Twenty minutes ago you were having a spaz attack on the phone and now you're busy?--Uh, hello?" Cole's eyes squint as he scrutinizes the estranged Scor. "And you are?"

"I--" Aaric's heart jumpstarts as Scor's arm sneaks around his waist.

"I'm Aaric's boyfriend," Scor cooes as he rests his head delicately on Aaric's shoulder. Boom. Boom. Boom. Explosions? No, just Aaric's sweet heart working itself to death, pounding violently in his chest. His face grows incredibly warm with embarrasment and several other constricting emotions as a gutsy M&M pops from Cole's lips, a rather degrading snigger tailing it.

"Y--You're joking!" Cole laughs, exchanging glances between the two. "Very funny, you got me. I guess I deserve it for not coming here in time..."

"It's not a joke," Scor continues. "Aaric here has been meaning to tell you for quite some time now. Isn't that right, baby?" Aaric shivers as Scor's cool breath rolls up his neck. Aaric doesn't speak, or nod, or even gesture. He doesn't do anything. His mind temporarily shuts down. How could this be happening? This morning all he did was chip snow off his car and now, in a rediculous arrangement of events, he has an undeniably attractice gay vampire wrapped around his waist with his one and only best friend in front of him as a first seat witness. Could things get any worse? Aaric gathers his courage to lock eyes with his friend but before he gets the chance to Cole has already abandoned him. All that's left to lock eyes with is a pathetic tear in the hallway wallpaper that, even now, seems to stare back at him mockingly. "I'm sorry we had to do this the hard way, Aaric. But you didn't really give me any other choice." Scor flings the door shut, sliding the dead bolt into place. Once turning to the shocked Aaric he shoves him up against the wall with an empty face. "Let me take a moment to reiterrate what I've told you. We don't take to emotions like you mortals. No one cares about sadness, remorse, happiness, or even love." Scor's lips graze Aaric's trembling jaw. "So let's just forget those right now, shall we? Emotions are a sign of weakness, vacancy that of strength. In this game, you need all the strength you can get."

"Games? What the hell are you talking about? What games?! And--And emotions?" He continues even after Scor has traveled to the bed. "What about you? You're the one who was all over me five minutes ago! What the fuck was that? Don't treat me like a puppet if nothing is going to come of it!"

Scor snaps upward after lazing onto the comfy bed, teeth beared. "DON'T speak to me like that! You filthy mortal, you have no IDEA what I've been through...what my race has been through. You have no right to speak to me in such a tone!" he barks, fists clenching. His eyes seem to flare fiercely, as if tongues of ember colored flames are mere seconds from scorching his eyelashes. He stands and ambles over to Aaric, watching him cower against the wall. "You're damn lucky I didn't kill you in that alley way! I risked my own hide to save you, you know that?" His words are sharp, stabbing at Aaric's only sense of confidence. They belittle him into an incapable state of being. "If you think that this is difficult now, then you're fucked! Try watching houses burn to the ground as you wait in the shadows, watching as the ones you loved go down with it. Try licking the blood of the innocent off your lips and still have the dignity to look at yourself in the mirror the next day! This life isn't cookies and rainbows, baby! It's blood and flesh...and that's all it's ever going to be." He turns, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly to stretch the muscles. "We're all that puppet once in a while. But you're god damned lucky that at least I'm here to tell you to have the sense of forgetting your emotions before the strings are cut!" He slams his fist onto the bedside table, an explosion of sapphire flames snipping the air.

Aaric attempts to smother the loudness of his frightened breaths, absorbing all of Scor's words. "I'm sorry...I don't know what it's like. I'm not like you. I don't know all of this, it's so new. If you could bear with me? I'm sorry, I'll try not to anger you again."

Scor rubs his forehead, then massaging his temple. "You'll anger me again...but it won't be your fault. My fuse is short. Tomorrow I'm meeting with Virge to discuss your future. Try not to do anything else that may fuck up any chance you have at staying alive. You're already walking a thin line at headquarters..." he trails off. Aaric stands slowly, watching the vampire glance out the window. "And if you haven't realized...that's only how I am."

"What?"

"I'm just that. I'm a puppet master. It's what I'm good at. I play games because I'm good at them. I can make up the rules and I can find my own players, molding them into just what I want. And I picked you. There are some things...no...a lot of things you don't know about me, Aaric, and one of them is that I only play games for one reason and one reason only: because it's a way of getting back at the world for what it's done to me. I'm sorry that I picked you to be the pawn...but that doesn't mean I don't like you any less. You are cute, after all." He tears from the window, readjusting the curtains as he passes Aaric to reach the next room. In there is a couch he uses to sleep, choosing not to take up Aaric's bed. Though not because it's a nice thing to do but because it reaks too much of mortal blood and depression.

Aaric contemplates taking Scor's arm to pull him back and comfort him, but he's far too distant to even consider such a drastic move. They met maybe two hours ago and someone know all this shit about each other. But knowing about someone doesn't always guaruntee immediate friendship. Especially when such dark facts are opposing the friendship.


	4. Chapter 4

After watching Scor disappear behind the living room wall Aaric retires to his own bed. Leisurely glancing at his dresser he soon dismisses the petty thought of changing into some pajamas. Besides, what happens if yet another vampire decides to drop by and quickly whisk him away and he's stuck in boxers and a wife-beater? Preparedness isn't his best strength. He rubs his face as he slips under the covers, wishing to grind away the past few hours...even the past few minutes. Oh god. His head hits the pillow, cushioning his bustling mind. Cole found out. He left. How could--after everything we've ever been through--he left? It seems so completely unreal, so impossible! Fucking crazy! Vampires are in stupid fantasy books, not real life. His inner thought contradicts him: Well apparently they ARE in real life.

Aaric reaches out to take hold of the window's handle. He yanks it upward to savor the night-time breeze that whistles through. The distant blaring of car horns follows his fingertips as they burrow back under the covers. His face scrunches in misery as he rediscovers the remains of his cell phone in pathetic pieces on the floor.

"Why me?" he murmurs.

-The Next Morning-

Scor's eyelids flicker open as the comforting scent of frying eggs curls into his nose. He rises from the couch, running a pale hand through his greasy hair as his nose crinkles in disgust. He must take a shower before he goes to HQ. Arms stretch high above his head as the wool quilt slips from his torso, standing up to inspect the odor. He wanders into the kitchen nook of the living room and perks an eyebrow as he spots Aaric hunched over the oven.

Aaric pauses to snatch a peek over his shoulder at the idle Scor. "Hey."

"What're you doing?" Scor's eyes flash with familiar curiosity.

Aaric scratches his cheek lazily feeling his fingernails graze his budding whiskers. "Eggs. I thought I'd cook. Maybe the fumes would clean my mind."

Scor laughs sharply, causing Aaric to jump. "Clean your mind? That's a funny way of looking at it." He watches with slight irritation as Aaric sluggishly draws the spatula through the frying eggs, choosing to neglect Scor's comment. "Why not take a walk? Rob a store. Take a woman's purse. Nothing's more refreshing than committing a felony."

He sighs. "No thanks. I'll just...cook." He scrapes at the burnt egg bits sticking to the side of the pan, really possessing no intention of eating them.

Scor groans. "Listen, Aaric--"

"I know, I'll just not show up for work so I can come to that place with you...whatever it's called."

He grinds his teeth together while growing increasingly bitter. "Aaric, for god's sake, forget about your friend! He wasn't that great anyway!" Aaric nods. "Aaric!"

"Hm?" He looks up slowly.

"Never mind," he mutters. "Where's your bathroom? I need a shower."

Aaric's heart jumpstarts, arm snapping up to gesture toward the restroom. He watches guiltily as Scor walks off wearing a shade of anger. Once he hears the door slam shut he shoves the pan into the sink and leans against the counter, head bowed. He doesn't mean to wear such a party-pooping attitude and he doesn't even know exactly why. Cole was a great friend but last night he spent hours lying awake processing the pros and cons of their friendship. Of course Cole was a great guy and he cherishes all their great memories but he's starting a new chapter in his life, a new chapter that could flip his entire life around--for worse or for better.

Either way he would be forgetting his old life and taking on something much bigger. Cole pulled jokes he didn't appreciate and when Aaric needed a real piece of advice on dating or important matters Cole would play it off like a huge joke.

"Come on, Aaric," Aaric whispers. "You're lucky to be alive, remember?" He looks up to the bathroom door. "Scor may not be your exact idea of a great friend, but he's the best you have. You may even be the best he has either." He shakes his head and rolls his neck, releasing a deep breath. He strides over to the bathroom door and quietly knocks. "Scor?" The splashing of water sounds from within as well as the heavy spray of water from the shower head. "Scor..." He pushes open the door, feeling the warm steam moisten his face. He meets the blurry silhouette of Scor still clear through the fogged up doors. "Oh...Scor--I didn't--" The water suddenly shuts off, Scor reaching to slide open the door. Before it can open all the way he snatches a hanging crimson towel from the top shower pole, wrapping it around his waist before stepping out. Aaric feels himself grow warm as his eyes feast on the perspired Scor.

"Might not want to be here. I don't want to play games with you," he snarls.

"No...it--it's okay. I just wanted to say that I'm--sorry. I didn't mean to be a jackass."

He watches Scor perform his signature jeer. "Such a good boy. I forgive you." Scor steps forward and strokes Aaric's cheek lightly. "Hm, you might want to shave before you go. Unless you want to go for that rugged look. Kind of sexy," he snickers.

"Talk about rugged," Aaric begins. "Your hair is slicked back. That's rugged."

"Is that sexy?" Scor smirks, hand clamped tightly on the towel wrapped around his waist.

Before Aaric can even realize what he's saying he spits out a reply. "Take that towel off and then we'll talk---Oh!" He claps a hand over his mouth. "Shit, I--what?"

"Cocky." Scor laughs, pushing Aaric out of the bathroom. "You're funny." The door swings shut.

"What the hell!" Aaric hisses, running off to his room. "Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the hell is my problem?" Whipping around to meet his mirror Aaric slams his hands down on the dresser beneath, staring at himself harshly in the mirror. His deep brown eyes only seem to darken as he re-evaluates his actions. "God!" He turns his head to the side in disgust and clenches his jaw shooting angry bursts of air out of his nostrils, much like an enraged bull ready to charge.

A bold, somewhat--no, definite--idiotic thing to say to Scor. Such a cocky thing to say though it never really processed correctly in his mind that it may prove inappropriate. He finds himself thoroughly ashamed, but on the other hand he wasn't lying. Scor looked damn sexy...and he knew it. Still, he argues quietly, that didn't mean that it was a-okay to just blurt out. Ridiculous. He never would have said such a thing before Scor showed up. Of course who else was like Scor and would provoke such a comment?

"Aaric are you going to change your clothes?" Scor's voice questions suddenly wrenching Aaric from his train of thought. He glimpses over his shoulder to the now dry Scor. His hair is blown dry, black highlights looking especially vivid in the bright light of morning and he wears a pair of torn black skinnies with gothic studded belt along with loose maroon checkered shirt and hoodie he had worn the previous night, infamous Chuck Taylors on his feet and thin leather spiked collar tied around his neck.

"Uhm..."

"I suppose you'll have to move though, and getting a whole new wardrobe would be a great priority. After the meeting we'll look or something. I don't know. Virge may have other plans for you." He chuckles, stuffing his hands into his front pockets as he leans into the doorway.

"Who exactly IS Virge?" he questions timidly, turning around.

Scor takes Aaric's coat from the desk beside him and tosses it to the curious Aaric. "Looks like you'll find out, won't you?" He sighs as he pulls the coat on, knowing that he can't possibly achieve a more insightful answer. "Come on!" Scor calls on his way to the front door.

"I'm coming!" he responds, hurrying out.

"Let's hope not," Scor jeers under his breath once Aaric joins him. "Come on," he repeats before Aaric opens his mouth to question. "We'll take a taxi."

-Later-

Both of the men step down a dark alley way as the fumes of underground construction rise from the sewers, cloaking the ground and climbing with anxious fingers up the brick walls.

"Where are we--?"

"Ssh!" Scor hisses. "This way." He leads the awe-struck mortal down another alley heading straight for a set of steel doors attached to what seems to be a large warehouse. "Now shut up and stay that way, sound good enough?" Scor snatches Aaric's hood as he yanks him through the doors into a gigantic field of blackness. Words of strong opposition gnaw at Aaric's tightly clamped lips, that is until the two reach a small room cloaked in red light. Several figures laze about the occasional loveseat or couch, murmuring softly amongst each other. All of them look like they could relate to Scor in the means of fashion: all gothic. Studs, spikes, rips, and lace.

"Scorpios you're rather late," one of the females muses, an appreciatory smile painted on her deep crimson lips. "Is this your friend we've been hearing so very much about?" The woman straightens, seemingly older than Scor, perhaps in her mid to early 20s. Her long legs are constrained in fishnet stockings that reach all the way up to her thighs where the lacey edge of her red and black plaid skirt ends. Around her torso is a black corset with numerous zippers to invisible pockets, pin-striped gloves covering her arms and a similar studded collar wrapped around her pale neck. Sleek, flowing blonde hair drapes behind her shoulders, bangs swept over her eyes. At first Aaric suspects the red light ahead playing tricks on him but after careful scrutiny he soon realizes that the woman's irises are indeed a deep ruby color.

"Aaric, yes. He's quite a lot of fun," Scor smirks. "I think he'll prove quite handy to our investigation."

"Handy, eh?" a male questions. Aaric turns his eyes on this vampire, hair a deep bronze with translucent blue eyes. "Is that all you need him for?"

Scor's eyes flicker with rage though his voice is monotonous. "We've never had a mortal on the inside before and it'd prove extremely helpful for convincing mortals into our bidding. As for your comment, I'm sorry you don't perk my...interest...quite as much, Gem." The one called Gem flashes a snarl, Scor harvesting a derogatory smirk.

"You little shit, you--"

"Little?" Scor interrupts. "Why I'm five foot eleven, Gem, a whole 4 inches taller than you. If anyone here, you are the little one...."

"Shut up! You should've killed the little fucker when I told you to!" Gem snarls.

"All of you, quiet!" a voice commands from behind Aaric. Scor places a hand over Aaric's shoulder as he jumps from the sudden outburst. His fingers curve to cup Aaric's shoulder sympathetically. The voice belongs to a lanky figure with squared shoulders who steps into the circle of bloody light from the opaqueness surrounding them. A long black trench coat cloaks him but is shed as he treks farther into the tight circle. The lights reflect off his jet black hair, kept short yet long enough to brush forward to achieve feathery bangs. His hair looks like Cole's, Aaric remarks silently. Only, this figure's facial features are far more sharp and threatening. His nose is narrow at the bridge curving at the end, nostrils flaring slightly as his eyes set in on Gem. The brilliant green iris's twinkle with malice as he opens his mouth. "Gemini, must I constantly remind you to KEEP your temper. Besides, I believe that you haven't suggested any other options to access the VINIC, whereas your fellow order members, Capricorn and Scorpio, have. In fact, you haven't done anything about the matter in, say, 200 years?" he questions coldly.

"I understand," Gem murmurs, head bowed. "I'm deeply sorry Virgo."

Virgo scoffs. "I'm not the one who requires the apology." His eyes flick to Scor, though they soften. "Scor, welcome. This is Aaric, correct?" Scor nods firmly. "Good, we have all the members here to vote on his fate.

Scor then looks over his shoulder. "Capricorn, if you would..."

Cole pauses, speculating quietly. He isn't quite dim enough, though several of these vampires may suspect so, to dismiss the facts presented to him. Virgo, probably the Virge Scor told him about, seems to command this group. And the group. Cole can't quite get over why all of their names represent the signs of the zodiac. Re-evaluating Virge's words he realizes that he had said that all of them were there, but he only spots 5 members in all. Gemini, Scor, Virgo, Capricorn, and another female around Capricorn's age seated quietly beside Gemini. There are more than 7 signs on the zodiac, right? Cole muses. But why would their names be the signs? It doesn't make sense...

"Aaric," a female voice coos, "this way, dearie." Aaric blinks his eyes several times, vision readjusting on the vampire woman who Scor had briefly spoken to several moments ago. He nervously glances over at Scor, though his face is carved with firm agreement so Aaric leads himself out beside her. "They shouldn't be long, at least I don't believe so." Her words sound like shreds of lace lightly stroking Aaric's ears, coaxing him down from the unsettling situation. An accent, he thinks. It clearly relates to Scor's: almost an olden English, something he can't quite put his finger on.

"What exactly are they deciding? Scor wouldn't tell me much," he murmurs, studying the door they had exited.

"Oh, Scorpios, he likes to keep secrets, doesn't he? The order is deciding whether or not to use you on our mission to capture the VINIC. You see, I don't need to be in there right now because I've already decided along with Libra."

Aaric pauses and turns back to her. "Why do all of your names belong to the Zodiac? I'm—confused…"

She chuckles slightly. "Well, it's actually a somewhat confusing topic to explain. You see we are indeed the sign of the name we possess but we hardly reflect the personality of the sign at all. It's quite intriguing actually, before some of us were turned—into vampires—we had the personalities to match our signs, but afterwards we adopted new personality traits. Now they weren't drastic, mind you, but still didn't link to our signs. Those who were born vampires merely lacked the traits all together."

"So…uhm," he starts, struggling to wrap his head around the information. "So what do the signs mean now? Are they just names or…?"

"No, no of course not. Actually part of why we have these signs are because of the powers we bear. Each name possesses an element, as you may know." She waits for Aaric to nod slowly. "Each element, mine being earth, is the element that the members are able to control. This is far different from regular vampires because regular vampires don't carry any extra abilities at all besides extreme strength and speed. This is the true reason behind our names. Virgo was the first of our order, he organized it nearly 300 years ago. As an orphan he had no one to explain to him why he could make rocks rise or trees grow, while other vampires could not. After doing much research he drew the conclusion that we were the descendents of an ancient Vampyre order: The Zodiac. Of course he had to find us all. Once explaining to us why we were all so different we joined him. Why wouldn't we? He was the only one who ever loved us for who we are, not because of our powers, which are what others seemed to only focus on. He gave us our new names and shred our old to build a new life. But as you can tell he hasn't even found all of us yet. That's why we need the VINIC. VINIC stands for Vampyre Information Necessary In Co-alliance: a newly created device that catalogs all vampires born and created, and even their power."

"That's incredible," he breathes in fascination. "How did he know that some of you were Zodiac members if you were still mortal?"

Capricorn gives a pleased smirk. "Trial and error, my dear. That and haven't you seen our eyes? They're our stones. Mine, obviously, is garnet, Scor's amethyst, and so on."

He cocks his eyebrow, shoulders squaring as he faces her with shocking realization that what this woman is saying actually makes sense. "Why are you telling me all of this? I'm just a mortal. I don't even know if they'll keep me," he says, suspicion rising.

She only continues to smirk.

"Capricorn," a quiet female voice says from the doorway. Both glance over to spot a woman similar to Capricorn in age. Her hair is a copper brown with lush waves ending just beneath her shoulders, eyes an incredible mystifying blue with brilliant green mixing: something Aaric has never seen before. "We've reached a decision."


	5. Chapter 5

Euphoric: Chapter 5

"Already?" Aaric croaks. "Jesus, they haven't been in there long. Maybe twenty minutes at the most…" He seizes the opportunity to trail off, for Libra only seems to stand with minute interest; though this successfully assuages his fear.

"This way," Libra muses rather distantly as she turns back into the eerie room. The damned red light pours onto the floor like blood pooling from its host, anxiously clawing toward Aaric. He nervously squeezes his hands into fists over and over, hearing his skin catch and slip like pieces of thick leather. His breath turns shallow as Capricorn leads his venture to the rest of the order. The darkness covets Aaric, almost like a large blanket of comforting opaqueness. It's not long before his eyes trail to one of the vampires. Scor is the first to catch his eyes, lazing nonchalantly on one of the couches. He slowly runs a hand through his hair as Aaric and Capricorn step into the concentration of light, managing a pleased simper. _What the hell is he smirking for? Is this amusing for him or something?_ Aaric frowns. But his blood soon runs cold as all 10 brooding eyes of the surrounding vampires narrow in on him. Gemini refrains from a malevolent snarl at the pathetic mortal. Virgo drifts behind the backs of the stationary members, hand slowly kneading at his jowl as he quietly re-evaluates the meeting.

"Virge this is ridiculous," Gem pleaded. Scor scoffed, soon muttering a comment under his breath. Virge's superior hearing caught the nearly inaudible words.

"Scorpio," he reminded. One word was all he needed. "Then let us discuss this. After all that is why we're here…"

"Adopting him into the order will cause us to stray from the path we've already paved! The VINIC?" Gem defended irritably. "Can we even afford a slip-up so far into the search—?"

"Slip-up?" Scor sniggered. "You're such a sniveling little bastard, you have no idea what Aaric is capable of, or if he would even be a slip-up."

"Scor," Virge repeated before allowing Gem the chance to rebel. "If you will? I'd like to get through this particular meeting without pointless arguing." Scor silently ended the dispute between himself and Gem, stifling an outburst. "Now, Gem proves a very realistic point. We mustn't forget that we aren't the only order out there." Scor shuffled in his seat. "The discovery of the VINIC is mandatory, and any evidence of squelching our chances will not be tolerated." Gem glanced at Scor with a haughty grin but Scor only seemed bored, racked with dull interest. "A few years ago this would have been a strong possibility, but now…" He threw up his arms. The four vampires contemplated, Gem glancing around to survey his fellow members.

Scor tongued his lip ring. "We've been taking chances for 300 years, and now we choose to stop?" he questions coldly. "It's bullshit."

"We weren't so focused on the VINIC!" Gem retorted.

"You didn't come until recently, Little Miss Dumb-ass, so I'm not listening to you!" Scor snapped back. "You haven't even been working on the mission as hard as the rest of us!" Scor's lips cocked with a playful jeer as Gem fought to control his anger.

"If I may," Libra began softly. The two bickering vampires settled instantly. "I agree that we would stray from our path, but, considering the VINIC, we have already lead ourselves audaciously down another path." She swept a lock of copper hair from her eyes. "Virgo created this order to find all of the zodiac, but we can't deny that taking this path is no longer our number one prerogative." She timidly reviews the three. "Gemini is correct. We will stray from our path. But only to follow a far more important one. I mean to take this path of finding the VINIC we must take chances and that's what we've been doing all along. Perhaps this path will cross the one carefully constructed by Virgo, but, for now, that is immaterial. The VINIC is our number one goal, and we're going to do anything to seize it."

"And Aaric?" Virgo questioned with intrigue.

Libra tilted her head and withdrew a breath. "There is strength in numbers. We have the numbers…so let's get the strength. Is it the worth the risk to increase our strength in order to better our chances at capturing the VINIC?"

"If we fail at training Aaric it'll only slow us down," Gem stated.

Scor coolly commented. "Gemini, did you not pay attention at all? There's more than one of us, so while the rest of us continue the search one of us will train Aaric. That way if we fail we won't be slowed much, and if we succeed we'll be stronger than before." Virge gave an assured nod toward Libra.

"Virge. Can we take the risk?" Libra asked.

Virgo's eyes strayed to Libra. "Let them in. I've made up my mind. I don't want to hear anymore arguments. I'm sure of my decision." Both Gem and Scor opened their mouths to protest but were soon scolded by the emerald daggers that are Virgo's eyes.

And now, with the mortal quaking in his seat, Virgo finally has the chance to eye the boy over. "Stand up," he orders, winding around the couch.

Aaric stands gradually.

Virgo eyes him up and down, looking over his lean body though arms look to have the possibility of sprouting muscles with proper training. It's good to be lean. You're faster. You won't get caught as easily. "Take off your shirt," he murmurs, hand still kneading his jaw with interest. Scor's eyes light up as he leans back into the couch, arms spread out over the back. Capricorn eases beside Libra, resting her head on the other's shoulder.

"What?" Aaric asks with confusion.

"Take off your shirt. Come on," Virgo repeats blatantly. Aaric glances to Scor who only shrugs, fiercely battling a smile. Aaric sighs and peels the shirt from his torso, hand clutching it tightly at his side. Scor bites his finger with a dignified smile of approval, jaws smarting with the pain from clenching them.

"Why am I doing this?" Aaric mutters, head tilting with displeasure.

"Quiet," Virgo orders. His eyes review the mortal's sun soaked skin, such a rare sight in the life of the night. His stomach is flat but with only slight evidence of any muscles. That will have to be strengthened. Soon Aaric's heart rate accelerates, finally realizing that the eyes of everyone rest on his intimate being. His eyes quickly look to Scor one more time. Scor drops his finger slightly and smiles, tips of his pearly white fangs poking out. Aaric's stomach flip-flops.

"Virge is this necessary?" Gem says. "His heart is simply _radiating_ his scent, and some of us haven't had dinner yet." The vampire gives a challenging half-smile, eyes twinkling with malice and guilty temptation. He slowly leans forward. "We wouldn't want one of us to take a bite—" A sharp slicing sound soon echoes through the room, Gemini releasing an infuriated snarl. Aaric looks to the vampire with curiosity, watching his hand clap over a gushing laceration on his arm.

"Oops," Scor coos, twirling an incredibly sharp looking throwing star in his right hand.

"Bastard!" Gem shouts, snatching the first star from the couch arm beside him, red blood painting one of the blades.

"Scorpio!" Virgo booms. "Outside! Now! Capricorn look after the boy." He steps from Aaric, snatching Scor's arm on his way out. Aaric watches them leave with growing worry. Gemini grimaces.

Virgo throws Scor out the backdoor, following him out. Scor digs his feet into the ground, withdrawing deep breaths through his nose as he backs up into the brick wall. "What is your problem today, Scorpio? Hm?!" Virgo draws close with eyes ablaze.

Scor only stares him straight in the eyes, jaw rigid with anger.

"Hm?!" Virgo swings his arm around to hit his fellow member but Scor snatches the hand tightly. He reaches to hit him from the other side but that hand is grabbed too. "Whatever it is it isn't affecting your fighting skills. That's for sure." He drops his hands. "Scorpio, my friend, what is it? Gemini has been here for quite a long time now, and his comments haven't got to you. Why now?"

"Why not?" Scor mutters darkly.

"Scor." His friend's eyes dart away. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"I can help myself. I don't need you."

Virgo sees through this façade with ease. "Is recruiting Aaric as an apprentice a bad decision? I won't have this negatively affecting my family."

Scor looks down the alley, eyes stinging. "No…" he says at last, voice choking. "Who will train him?"

He rubs his own jowl. "Scorpio what's the matter?"

"Nothing!" he snaps, purple eyes darting to meet his leader's. "For fucking sake, why does something always have to be wrong?"

Virgo watches his friend's faltering eyes, iris's flickering with inner resentment. "Alright." He steps back to give him room.

Scor nods. "So, who will train him?"

"Come back inside. We'll settle this in there." Virge confirms and walks back in to join the rest. Scor collapses to his knees once Virge is out of sight, fingertips digging into his skull as they rake through his hair.

"I can't…it's not possible," he murmurs. "I won't let it. I promised myself it wouldn't. Not again."

Aaric pulls his shirt back over his chest as Virgo enters, face looking rather exhausted. "Sir?"

"It's Virgo, Aaric. When you're in the order you don't need to call me by proper means."

Gemini leaps from his couch as Scor enters, hair whipped strangely from dragging his hands through. "Virge? Are you serious!?"

"Beginning today I don't want any more screwing around," Virgo continues firmly. "We want the VINIC now, or we're all fucked. Understand?" Scattered nods. Scor drifts past Aaric with face vacant. Aaric resorts to awkwardly continuing to stand, not knowing what else he can do. "Aaric is to be under close supervision of Scor at all times. And I mean—all—times," he growls. "I want him processed as if he were one of us. Scor, take him through first level analysis without turning him. I want to make sure we don't waste our time on someone who can't stomach this business."

"Understood," Scor mumbles. Capricorn has drifted to sleep, Libra nodding silently in agreement. Gem settles back down without another word but with great difficulty. Scor rests his jaw on his fist, eventually giving in and looking over at Aaric. It almost amuses him how innocent he looks, rubbing the back of his neck to make it look as if he has something to do so he doesn't simply stand there. He smiles. Then he frowns and looks off.

"You're all dismissed. I'll send schedules to your phones in a couple of hours. Expect to be booked." Virgo nods and then disappears in a haze of black smoke. Scor stands and nods toward Libra, Libra smiling faintly and waving though not enough to wake her sleeping friend.

"This way," Scor says to Aaric as he passes him. Aaric follows, but what other choice does he have. They go out the way they come in, though Scor must keep hold of Aaric's wrist as he maneuvers him through the blackness that leads them into the back alley. Once in the safety of a sunlight dipped alley Aaric hoots with joy, practically scaring Scor half to death. "What the hell was that for?"

"We did it! I'm in! I'm not dead!" Aaric laughs, spinning around. "Ahh, life! I will keep you with me!"

"You're crazy."

"And you're correct. This is so great!" Aaric catches up to his friend and embraces his tightly. "Thank you." Scor struggles momentarily, lips tickled by Aaric's hair and nose tempted by his scent. But then he relapses and hugs him back, virtually numb with temptation. Aaric's eyebrows cock with surprise, having guessed that Scor would shove him away in disgust. Though after several seconds Scor pushes Aaric away and turns around.

"Go on home. I'll get you tomorrow for training."

Aaric furrows his brow in slight annoyance. "Aren't you coming home with me?"

"Why the hell would I?"

Aaric pauses. "You know what? Just don't come at all. Just leave me the hell alone. In fact," he starts to backtrack. "Forget you ever met me! Hm? Sound good? I sure think it does!" He smiles, though inside his heart is engulfed by flames of hatred and depression. "Just go tell your _fucking_ friend that I don't want to be a part of _any_ of this! Because I can't deal with you anymore! I can't deal with your hot and cold anymore!"

Scor turns, slightly nauseated, heart diving. "Aaric…"

"No! Leave me alone, Scor! Thanks for saving my life! Having a nice life!"

"AARIC!" Scor screams as Aaric steps back onto the street, a car barreling toward him. Aaric turns slightly, face catching just enough to completely petrify him. Leaping forward Scor slices through the air with shadows tailing him, tackling Aaric onto the other side of the road before a gasp of shock can even escape Aaric's mouth. The car races past with car horn blaring, both men breathing hard, hearts purring in their chests. Aaric's jaw cocks and he stares into Scor's eyes, gasping in breaths. "That…makes two times…"

"…Come home with me," Aaric breathes.

"Okay."

He didn't have the strength to say no.


End file.
